Does It Hurt?

Does it hurt?

Does it hurt to let them rise above the surface?

You try to choke them down, but it's not worth it.

Does it get cold,

being locked away in your mind, in a cage,

no way out of the dark, all alone all afraid?

You’re left to rot there as you age.

Does it make you tired,

wanting to let go,

waiting for the air to feel thin again?

It's so thick, you can’t breathe,

and every time you want to cry,

your heart hurts and you grieve.

You grieve for yourself

because no one else will.

No one else will feel what you feel,

and that's real.

They give you powdered pellets to take away the pain,

but more pain is all you gain when you start to rely,

rely instead of try.

The dust at the bottom of the bottle is not a wake-up call.

It's a reminder to go get more

so you can feel warm and numb.

And they say it's dumb,

but they save you.

But you’re running out of time before they kill you.

Is it worth the risk?

To wake up and feel like this?

You’d rather go to sleep and feel nothing at all.

So why are we afraid of dying?

Are you exhausted from crying?

Another empty bottle.

Your mind is scrambled,

your life you gambled away

to feel this way.

And you wouldn’t even care if it took you out.

That's all you ever think about.

When the day comes, you pop it in your mouth, and you’re done.

There is no more cage

because what's the point of a cage without a bird to sing in it?

You stopped singing.

You stopped dreaming.

You won’t even bother to open your eyes.

You gave up; you can’t even cry.

Why didn’t you try?

You got back up when they yelled, saying you weren’t good enough.

You got back up time and time again,

but no one would help you win.

The pills are your only friend.

Take them before the voices start again.

Take them before you start shaking and breaking.

Don’t you dare break down.

You don’t want to look weak,

but you are.

They control you.

They define you.

They revive you.

They will end you.

As much as they made you,

why’d you let them take you?